


Got my eyes on you all night

by deerwrites



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Biting, Clubbing, Flirting, M/M, Making Out, Normal AU, Normal!Simon, One Shot, Vampire Bites, Vampire!Baz, kind of, only a little though?, uh yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25384987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deerwrites/pseuds/deerwrites
Summary: Simon visits the club one night with Penny but comes back every week in hopes of seeing a handsome stranger again. Once they meet, Simon gets a lot more than he bargained for, but he doesn't think he minds it that much. A pretty man with a thing for biting? That's kind of hot.Loosely based off of the song "Tungs" by The Frights, because every time I hear that song I think that it's about someone pursuing a vampire.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 15
Kudos: 119





	Got my eyes on you all night

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said in the summary, this is inspired by the song "Tungs" by The Frights; the title is a line from the song. Could this have been more fleshed out and made into a longer work? Yes. Did I mainly work on this around 1 AM every night for five days? Also yes. My motivation is nonexistent. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless :)

Every Saturday at ten o’clock, I find myself taking a cab down the same crowded streets past the same tall buildings to the same damn night club. I’ve never been one for patterns or routines- they get dull so quickly, and they’re hard to break. But I don’t mind this routine. And it’s not because I’m just itching to go down some booze or flail around on the dance floor. If that's what I was after, I'd just go to some party taking place on campus.

The first time I went to the club it wasn’t even my idea. Penny was in one of her “We’re young and free and time is moving too quickly to stay in this damn apartment” moods, so she begged me to come with her to some sketchy sounding club that one of her acquaintances praised for its “killer atmosphere”. I had teased Penny for being so quick to try to please her Bio Lab friend-crush (she hates when I call them that, but it’s an accurate phrase so it’s staying), but honestly the idea started to grow on me the more I thought on it. 

I blame it on how much films have romanticized clubbing, but I really did have high hopes the first night we went out. I had a vague picture in my head: Penny and I dressed up just a bit to attract attention but not enough to look like try-hards. We’d be on the dance floor, just moving around to some bass heavy song and the flashing blue and red lights would catch in our hair. I don’t know, the thought of getting away from the stress courtesy of uni for just one night seemed a bit like the greatest idea of the century. I wasn’t expecting to find a whole new stresser at that club.

When we had finally gotten in (it was called _Midnight Sun_ , which I mean, how naff), the music was so loud. It was almost too loud; the way that it vibrated through the floor and up my feet to my chest made me feel like I was constantly choking back a cough. The lights weren’t as cool as I’d thought they’d be either. They flashed in random patterns, from green to purple to blue to yellow. It kind of made me want to throw up. Penny grabbed my hand and we made our way into the mass of swaying and jumping bodies. She didn’t let go of me for a while, I think she was a bit put off by how close everyone was. I didn’t really mind it. Well, I guess I wasn’t as worried about creeps grabbing me as much as she was, and after that thought I didn’t mind how clingy she was. 

“It’s a bit hot, isn’t it?” I had half yelled over the music. Penny made a face like she was a bit annoyed (maybe not at me) and leaned forward until her thick hair brushed the side of my face. It made me feel itchy and even more hot.

“WHAT?” she shouted way too close to my ear. I flinched back, but then leaned forward again so that she could hear me.

“It’s a bit hot!”

“Well, yeah! We’re packed in here like Vienna sausages!”

“What the fuck is that?”

“What!”

“Never mind!” 

I had given up on trying to yell my discomfort to Penny and decided to try to focus more on the music. I’ve never really been one for dancing. The different parts of my body don’t communicate well with each other, so whenever I try to do any kind of dignified dance move I just feel like a tit. Penny, however, looked like a natural. Maybe it’s easier for girls, I don’t know. I did manage a half-arsed swaying bounce combo that I hoped wouldn’t draw too much attention. Pretty soon it was easy to fall into a rhythm with Penny and the mass of people around us. I got lost in it for what felt like hours, and I was starting to feel that light headed, out-of-it feeling that I imagined. My eyes slipped shut and I let myself get fully immersed in the experience.

And then some buff, sweaty bloke rammed into me enough to make me stumble, and I almost barked a curse at him when my eyes caught with someone else’s on the other side of the room.

He was standing outside of the dance floor area, like he was looking at us all from the outside. But not in a depressing outsider way, more like he wanted to be observing everyone while he held his martini glass close to his chest. When our eyes met, he made sure to hold eye contact for a heart stuttering moment, and then he looked away. He didn’t look away quickly, ashamed of being caught staring. He looked away slowly, a smirk playing on his lips as he turned back to his posh looking friend. I think he wanted me to know that he was looking at me. Once he had turned away, it gave me a chance to really look at him. I don’t think I had ever seen a man as pretty as him with his sharp features, long limbs, and soft looking hair. He was wearing a fitted dark burgundy suit, but it looked almost casual on him. 

Penny grabbed my arm while I was openly ogling the man and I tried my best not to look too put out by it. “I’m thirsty! Let’s go get something to drink!” she shouted.

I nodded dumbly, glancing over my shoulder as we stumbled through the crowd and towards the bar. Penny ordered something for us, which was well and fine because the most I know about alcohol is that beer tastes like piss and it only takes two of them to get me feeling squiffy.

“Did you see that guy near the wall? Kind of close to the stairs?” I asked once I took a swallow from my glass. It seared my throat on the way down and my eyes watered.

“What guy?” Penny skimmed the room, in a way that seemed like she wasn’t really looking. I guess I didn’t give her much to work with.

“The really pretty one. In the suit.”

She looked at me kind of funny then, and it made me squirm. “I didn’t think you were into blokes, Simon.”

It’s a valid statement. I’ve never mentioned fancying a boy to Penny. Of course, I don’t really talk much about girls either. I’ve only dated a couple times, and neither of them turned into more than something casual. 

“I don’t know. I guess I don’t really think about it all that much. Sexuality is confusing, yeah?”

“To some people, I suppose it is,” she said softly while touching my hand. I didn’t mean for it to turn into some kind of _moment_ , like a coming out or whatever. It was sweet that Penny seemed interested in how I was feeling about the whole thing, but it really wasn’t something that I wanted to mull over. What I did want though, was to see that man again. Turning my entire body around, I looked over the crowd to try and spot him. I even stood on my tiptoes to get a better look.

Penny grabbed my arm then and pulled me down to her height. “What’s the matter with you? Trying to be completely obvious?” 

I shrugged. “If it helps me find him again, then yeah.”

So that’s what I’m doing now. Dressing up a bit more than usual and being completely obvious by showing up at the same time on the same day every week. Penny stopped coming with me after the second time. I guess I wasn’t really that much fun; I kept looking around, peering at every face hoping to see a curved nose, an arched eyebrow. To my surprise (and pleasure) I saw him every single time. It felt like a game. I’d see him out of the corner of my eye, and then he’d disappear into the crowd with a glance over his shoulder and a smirk always on his lips. 

I tried following after him once. I had made my way past swaying bodies and spilling drinks just to find him at the top of the stairs and then disappearing into a dark room. I don’t know why I didn’t go up after him. I guess it felt like I… wasn’t supposed to go up the stairs. Like it was off limits to me. Nothing was off limits to him. 

This time, I’m going to follow him. Although, I’m not trying to look like a creep (I swear I’m not trying to be one) so I try to enjoy myself at the club too. I get a drink, and then make my way onto the dance floor. It’s strange how easy it is for me to get comfortable here. At first it was weird coming alone; I thought people would figure I was a right git showing up to the club by myself, like some weirdo whose only mission is to bring girls home with him. But once I’m out there, no one really knows if I came by myself or not, and I don’t think anyone cares as much as I think they do. So, yeah. It’s nice to blow off some steam every now and again. It’s easy to get lost in the movements and all the sounds and colors, so I let myself do just that. 

“Mind if I join you?”

My eyes snap open and I stop dancing immediately, although it’s hard to stand completely still while everyone around you is still moving. I stumble a bit, which is embarrassing because it’s him standing right in front of me with his perfect face and perfect hair. The lights catch in it and it looks like an oil spill. The pretty kind though, not the kind that kills fish and baby ducks. He’s not wearing a suit tonight, just some tight jeans and a posh looking white silk button up with lavender and cream colored flowers. It makes him look softer and sexier at the same time.

“Uh, no, not at all,” I say loudly, trying not to lean in too close to him because I’m not sure if I could pull away.

He steps closer to me, and I step back just barely. If he notices, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead he reaches his hand out to me. “Would you give me your hand?” he asks.

What am I going to do, say no? I mean, part of me wants to bolt. Leave this gorgeous man on the dance floor and never see him or think about him again. I really have been thinking about him too much. During lectures, walking to classes, eating dinner. Once, before I went to sleep, I let myself think about kissing him because _god_ I’ve felt so intimacy starved. Just thinking about his lips and his tongue and his teeth was enough to get me worked up. I can’t believe that I’ve already thought of him in that way before I even know his name. I'm not use to being so bold with people though, I'm not a casual person like that. 

I place my slightly sweaty hand in his, and he runs his cool fingers lightly over my forearm before closing around my wrist. He grabs my other hand and pulls me closer, draping my arms over his shoulders and then grabbing my waist. I can feel how cold his hands are through the thin fabric of my t-shirt, but it doesn’t bother me that much. He’s also a bit taller than me, which I can definitely feel now that we’re so close together. I’m trying to keep my breathing under control because it feels like I haven’t taken a proper breath for a minute. 

Then he starts to dance, just kind of swaying his hips and shoulders, and I think I might pass out. He squeezes my hips and it looks like he’s trying to hold back a laugh. I’m standing still as a statue, like a complete moron, so I try to move with him. My hips don’t move as smoothly as his do, but we settle into our own rhythm. It feels a bit… _intimate_ , and just thinking about it makes me blush. The man’s eyes jump around my face, and then he starts to lean in. For a few dizzying seconds, I think he’s going to kiss me. But then he turns his face and puts his lips right up to my ear. It makes me squirm slightly, and I’m sure he can feel the way the muscles in my stomach jump.

“I know you’ve been watching me,” he says, and I can feel his words everywhere, all over my body. “What are you so curious about?”

His tone is teasing, and I can hear the smile in his question. He also smells really good, kind of like a forest after the rain leaves. My nerves are ablaze. 

I don’t really know how to answer his question, so I say, “Not to be too forward, but you’re beautiful.” I don’t feel embarrassed. Well, maybe a bit but I’m trying to push past it. “And you’re not as innocent as you’re playing to be. I know you’ve been looking at me, too.” It sounds like a bold thing to say, but I know it’s true. These past few weeks have felt like a constant back and forth, a game of cat and mouse. 

His fingers find my belt loops (I’m a little disappointed in myself for tucking my t-shirt into my jeans tonight, otherwise he would’ve had to reach under the fabric and feel around for them) and he yanks me even closer to him. I gasp and hope the pounding music hides the sound. 

“Come upstairs with me?” This time, when he says it, I feel his teeth slightly scrape over my earlobe, and I think I’m going to die. All I can manage is a quick nod while swallowing thickly.

He makes his way out of the crowd so easily, no pushing or shoving necessary. He weaves between everyone like a cat and I follow down the path he opens for me. Once we get to the base of the metal stairs, my feet falter on instinct or habit, wanting to prevent me from following. But the man’s grip on my hand is sure, and I just barely save myself from tripping over the first metal step.

The atmosphere is completely different up on the second level. The lights only occasionally flash over the dark walls, and you can more feel the music than hear it. The crowd is way less dense up here too. People are mainly grouped together in twos and threes, either talking very close together or making out. 

I’m pulled around a corner and then pushed against the wall, and my heart threatens to break my ribs. The man props one hand against the wall beside my head and uses his other to stroke my side, from my stomach to my hip and my thigh and then back up again. Fire follows his fingers. “Comfortable?”

“Mm,” is the less than coherent sound I decide to offer as my response. The fog over my brain clears for just a moment, so before anything else happens, I ask, “What’s your name?”

He looks confused for a second, his mask of confidence slipping before he yanks it back up. Offering me a positively blood boiling smile, he says, “Baz.”

 _Baz_. Finally, a name I can use when I tell this story to Penny. Or, some of it at least. “I’m Simon.”

“Pleasure,” he purrs, and then his lips are on mine. He’s immediately licking into my mouth, no hesitation. It throws me for a moment because I’ve never been kissed like this before. No time wasted, nothing bashful or unsure about the way his tongue rubs against mine. (His mouth is slightly cool too, like how your mouth feels after you drink ice water. It’s not unpleasant.) He uses his hand on my hip to press me more fully against the wall, I guess to keep me from moving. Why would I leave though? Nothing has ever felt quite as good as this.

His tongue brushes over the roof of my mouth and I make the decision to bury my hands in his hair. It feels just as soft as it looks. When I grip slightly at the roots Baz lets out a soft groan and the sound makes me feel hot everywhere. I want to hear that again, so I tug his bottom lip between my teeth. I’m awarded with another soft sound as he pushes forward and kisses me harder, enough to where I think my lips will bruise. 

He pulls away from me then, and I’m about to chase his mouth when he roughly grips my hair, pulling my head back. Well, I didn’t know I was into _that_. I’m breathing pretty hard, my cheeks are flushed, and my pants feel a little too tight. I’m glad it’s dark. Baz looks totally cool and collected, aside from his mussed hair and the dark look in his eyes. He flashes me another one of his wicked smiles before he leans down and kisses under my jaw. His tongue feels warmer now, and I sigh as he makes his way across. When he reaches my neck, his kisses slow, and he makes sure to thoroughly bite and lick each new area he travels to. I’m starting to feel a bit weak in the knees.

“Feels good,” I mumble, because I feel like he has to know that I’m enjoying myself. A low hum of acknowledgement from him sends a new flood of heat pooling in my belly. He finds a spot close to the base of my neck, and when he sucks at the skin there I have to bite my lip to hold back a moan. I’m not entirely successful. Baz presses against me, one of his thighs slipping between my legs. I try to push my hips forward (because I’m shameless) but he’s still got one hand gripping me there, keeping me against the wall. He’s surprisingly strong.

A frustrated laugh escapes me, and I feel Baz smile (or more accurately, smirk) against my neck. When he opens his mouth against my neck again, I can feel his teeth more. They’re sharp, sharper than I was expecting, and a shiver rushes through me. So Baz is a biter, huh? That’s hot. I'm definitely not going to complain about this new development.

It starts to hurt a bit, and then _holy fuck_ it starts to hurt. Like a needle from a shot going into your neck except the needle is too big and it’s coated with fire. My veins are filling with that fire. I’m burning up from the inside out. Just as suddenly as the pain started though, it stops, and everything feels so _so good_. My body feels light like it did on the dance floor. I can feel his tongue slowly dragging over my skin. This time, I don’t try to stop the sounds I make.

Baz’s grip on my hair and my hip loosen, and he does that nice thing again where he strokes my side. He presses his thigh against me more, and the pressure feels like a gift from the heavens. Or maybe a gift from Baz for whatever the hell it was that he just did. “You alright, baby?” His voice sounds rough and perfect.

I nod and slowly open my eyes (I think I closed them as soon as I felt Baz’s lips on my neck). It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust again to the dim lighting, but when they do, I notice that there’s something… off about him. His lips look more red. And shiny.

Slowly, carefully, I reach up and touch the side of my neck. When I pull my hand back, the tips of my fingers are shiny and dark. Is it… blood? Am I bleeding? 

I still feel pretty dazed, so when Baz reaches out to take my hand, I let him. He grabs it and brings it up to his mouth to lick the blood ( _my blood_ ) off of my fingers. Instead of feeling concerned or grossed out (because that’s how I’m supposed to feel, right? What the fuck is going on with me?), I just feel really fucking turned on. I think I’m going to die, I’m so turned on. I guess I should ask about the whole neck thing though.

Baz pulls my fingers from his mouth and his saliva is cold on my skin. “Hey, so, what was all of that?” I ask dumbly, and it takes way more effort to sound coherent than is usual for me. He doesn't answer me right away and I’m not really sure what to ask. _Hey, did you just bite me hard enough to draw blood?_ Or maybe _That thing that really hurt but then felt amazing, can you do it again?_ “Are you like, kinky? Because I’d totally be down with that.” Blood play is a thing, right? Maybe I should study up on kinks.

He laughs, a low sound that's just a little bit evil. And so hot. He leans in, and I think he’s going to bite me again (that’s what he did right? He bit me?) but he litters my neck in soft kisses and asks, “How are you feeling?” 

My mind is moving too quickly and too slowly at the same time. I feel like Baz took out all of the functioning parts of my brain and filled it with useless shit, like expired coupons or something. I feel mostly fine. A bit confused, a bit like I’m currently running a marathon, and a lot like I want his mouth on me again. 

Feeling bold and a bit reckless, I pull his face up to mine and kiss him again, full and deep. His mouth tastes kind of like warm metal. So once he made me bleed, he drank it? Would that be cannibalism? Or vampirism? Except vampires aren’t real, and cannibals are, right? I don’t want to think too hard about it. I’ve been trying not to think too hard this entire evening. When I pull away, he’s actually blushing. I don’t think I’ve seen him blush before now. “I’m feeling like I want to get you alone somewhere.”

“We are alone.”

I roll my eyes. “Properly alone. Where no one can interrupt us.” Should I be more forward? I don’t want to read this wrong. 

“Simon…” Baz starts, and he actually looks a bit nervous. “I don’t know if you want to be alone with me.”

“Oh, yes I do. I really, really want to.” I am not above begging. I’m not sure what exactly has gotten into me, but I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want him. I want anything he’ll give me; I’ll take anything. “Baz, I want you so bad.” Point, across. 

He visibly swallows, and I’m not sure if it’s because of the whine in my voice or because I’ve just pushed my fingers up his shirt. He’s got cool, smooth skin and a small waist. I lightly drag my nails up and down his stomach because I want to see him as worked up over me as I get over him. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and closes his eyes and I want to kiss him again. Instead I ask “Do you want me?”

He huffs and pushes a hand through his hair. “Of course I do. I’m just afraid that I’ll drain you.”

That statement is definitely odd. I decide to play coy and find the euphemism in it. “I’m having trouble seeing how that’s a bad thing.”

Baz laughs short and high, and I have no idea how to read it. “Not like that, you idiot. Surely you’re not that dense.”

I don’t know if I’m supposed to be offended at his words or not, but his voice is so pretty that it doesn’t bother me in the slightest. My brain _is_ trying to piece things together though, but the theory is too ridiculous that I don’t want to believe it. Or maybe it’s just ridiculous enough to be true. Either way, I don’t want to think about it too hard, as I said. “Maybe I am,” I say, lifting my shoulders. “I guess you’ll just have to get to know me better to find out.” I want him to know me. I want to know him outside of this club. Outside of the suits, cool looks, and guarded words.

He’s quiet for a while, and I move my hands to scratch at his lower back. I can see the moment he makes a decision, because his face softens. His eyebrows lift and his frown turns to a more natural expression. He kisses me again, briefly and softly, and then he says “Your place or mine?”

My stomach flips in anticipation and I barely keep myself from cheering. It’s either a really good thing or a really bad thing that it didn’t take much more pleading; I’m obviously hoping it’s because he wants me in the same way I want him. I grab him by the wrist and start to walk us towards the exit. I will not run, no matter how needy I feel.

“Definitely yours. My roommate would never forgive me for inviting a vampire into the apartment.”


End file.
